


Til My Breathing Stops

by notverypunkofme



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Feelings, Friends to Lovers, I suppose, M/M, Nessie - Freeform, This is a happy story, Touching, for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 15:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11293953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notverypunkofme/pseuds/notverypunkofme
Summary: “What´s wrong?” Niall asks, suddenly all rigid. He remembers, once again, how much Bressie insisted on getting a hotel. How he told Niall that he wouldn't be going out for drinks with him after the gig, because he needs to get back to Ireland the next day. Niall's been hoping it's not poorly covered avoidance, or something worse. A lump forms in his throat, the first sliver of worry licking at the pit of his stomach.





	Til My Breathing Stops

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Nessie summer fanwork fest. The title is a line from Lorde´s Writer In The Dark.
> 
> Originally this was supposed to be just a drabble. Then a longer story about Nial and Bressie´s holiday in Irish cottage on the coast. Which I will hopefully write, eventually. For now it is what it is, a story about a kiss.
> 
> Like always, the biggest thanks to Alex and the organisers of the fest <3

_Hey chief, want t chat t ya about somethin. See u soon_

Bressie's acting has been strange, Niall reckons, as he's climbing up the stairs to Bressie's hotel room. For once, he didn't even want to crash over at Niall's, insisting that it would be easier to get a hotel room close to the venue and all that. Obviously, Niall tried to insist, but without any success. Bressie's brusque texts were clear on not wanting to bother Niall only for one night. Well. As far as Niall knew Bressie, this wasn't his style.

Another slightly disturbing thing was that Bressie had only flown into London few hours before the gig. Normally, as Niall knew from experience, he would come a day or a few before to spend some time with the LIC, if not Niall alone. This whole trip sounded suspiciously dull, and very much unlike Bressie.  

So currently, catching up with one of his best friends means rushing into his hotel room roughly fifteen minutes before The Blizzard´s soundcheck. Sweet.

Niall doesn't bother knocking, he knows which room is Bressie´s, and they had exchanged enough texts earlier.

The room is dark already, the blinds down but it's evening behind them. Shite winter weather practically means nighttime at 5pm. Light comes  in when the adjoined bathroom door opens, and Bressie walks into the room in the same time as Niall. He´s clearly just showered, judging from the smell of a shampoo or a body wash lingering in the air. Niall doesn't even have time to say hello, Bressie spots him and almost jumps three feet up.  

“Hey, Brez,” Niall greets him with a smile anyway, happy to see his friend after a long time.

It takes Bressie a moment to put himself together, clearly shaking off the surprise. He shuffles on his feet a little, dropping down the towel he had been holding.

“Hi,” he says without looking at Niall, and instead of a hug that Niall was hoping for, he sits down on the bed.

Niall cackles when he sees the double bed squeezed in the tiny room.

“How are you going to fit?” he asks, catching his breath. The joke falls absolutely flat though, there's no laugh echoing Niall's. He goes serious within second when he sees Bressie's dejected expression, his shoulders hunched, elbows braced on his denim clad thighs.

“What´s wrong?” Niall asks, suddenly all rigid. He remembers, once again, how much Bressie insisted on getting a hotel. How he told Niall that he wouldn't be going out for drinks with him after the gig, because he needs to get back to Ireland the next day. Niall's been hoping it's not poorly covered avoidance, or something worse. A lump forms in his throat, the first sliver of worry licking at the pit of his stomach.

“Is it something I've done?” Honestly, Niall would rather find out sooner than later, and there's practically nothing he wouldn't be willing to apologise for.

The problem is -  he doesn't recall any incidents between Bressie and him. Especially now, when they meet rather sporadically. To be completely honest, Niall sometimes feels guilty for not making more effort. For touring and the band being the priority without discussion. He's promised himself that it's going to change now, when he's the master of his own time. That he's going to see all his old friends. Still, he counts Bressie as one of the friends he's actually been in touch with quite a lot, even if not as much as he would want to.

Bressie just sighs before peering up and giving Niall a miserable look.

"What?" Niall asks again, when Bressie doesn't react in any other way. "What is it?" he pushes, voice getting slightly panicked. He is seriously hoping it's not some terribly bad news.

Bressie shakes his head, lets out a self-despicable laugh before standing up. He won't look at Niall.

Niall's eyes following each of his pacing steps, incredulous, not understanding at all.

"I've been meaning to tell you for ever. To talk to you. Tell you that -" Bressie stop with a huff, a mere meter from Niall, shoulders hunched.

"That what?" Niall asks, an unsettling feeling prickling all over his skin. It's seems like Bressie will never get it out. The soundcheck is starting soon, and Bressie hates being late. This is not like him, something must be so wrong.

"Brez," Niall says gently, laying a hand on his arm, trying to peek at Bressie’s face, shielded by the shadows.

Bressie finally turns to Niall wordlessly, too slowly, hesitation palpable in every single movement. It's almost painful to watch him like this. Niall would be lying if he said his heart wasn't beating wildly in his chest, sick with worry.

When he gets to see Bressie's face it's undeniably pained. Niall nearly stops breathing, trying to read more into his friend's expression but _can't_. That's when Bressie's arm winds around his waist, tucking their bodies closer.

Niall shuffles awkwardly. It's weird to stand this close in a winter jacket while Bressie's wearing only a thin t-shirt. He doesn't want to push Bressie away, and in the back of his mind, he likes getting into Bressie's intimate zone. A thought he's learnt to ignore a long time ago.

Niall shudders involuntarily, and he has no idea what´s going on here anymore. His brain´s currently trying to decide whether to make a step back or step forward. Just when he's going with a cowardly step back, Bressie's huge hand lands on the side of his neck, tilting his head up, and then Bressie's kissing him.

The skin on Niall's arms breaks into thousands of goosebumps, and he's grateful for all the layers of clothing, because it's not a fact that he's ready to share now.

In the dark of the small room, the press of their lips couldn't be more intense. It's soft, yet firm. Bressie's not pressuring Niall, and Niall isn't backing away. They are perfectly locked in the moment, and Niall knows that this is going to change their lives forever. The way Bressie opens his mouth to take Niall's bottom lip between his, sucking softly, then kissing his top one.

Without any abruptness, the kiss ends when Bressie leans away, disconnecting their lips with a little wet noise. They stand still, chests almost touching, breathing in sync; in and out.

Niall's first thought is that maybe Bressie is going to finally speak up now. The fact that they just kissed seemingly not important to him at all, mind still hooked on what Bressie wanted to talk about.

His thoughts must be showing on his face, because Bressie, whose large palms are still cupping Niall's neck, clears his throat nervously, eyes darting around, looking anywhere but at Niall.

Niall lays his hands over the tops of Bressie's to catch is attention, and it does work, Bressie stills, Niall's raised eyebrows encouraging him to talk. Or maybe simply forcing him, even though Niall wouldn't want that.

“It's about you,” Bressie sighs, voice thick, eyes fixed on Niall's face intensely. “What I wanted to talk about.”

Niall can't imagine how could Bressie possibly wanted to talk about something pleasant when he looks like this, his handsome features all worried and nervous. On the other hand, he had just kissed Niall. He could´ve punched him instead.

On the bed, Bressie's phone starts ringing loudly.

“Fuck,” Bressie mutters, taking a step away from Niall. He can see how Bressie rubs his lips together, like he can't believe what just happened either. The phone keeps ringing while Bressie hesitates before reaching for it, and he checks the screen hastily.

“I need to go,” he says, pocketing the phone.

Niall nods. “Yeah,” he says seriously, tracking Bressie's every move, trying to make sense out of this mess of a situation. There's still a rushing in his ears from the adrenalin, and he can't quite concentrate on anything. He knows that Willie and the others are probably wondering where he’s been after so long.

 

***

 

With thousands of unanswered questions, Niall left Bressie's room to give Bressie some space to get ready quickly, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable before the gig. His mind has been pacing ever since he closed the door behind himself.

Niall can't stop thinking about the kiss. How much he wished they could stay in the room for longer, to snog properly. He wanted to run his hands all over Bressie's body. Wanted Bressie to touch him back some more, to finally know what that feels like.

Basically, Bressie was the first guy Niall had a crush on, realising that it wasn't only about girls for him. It was quite embarrassing, really, and from the distance of a good couple of years he's hoping that he was not completely obvious back in those times. It's even more mind blowing, what happened in Bressie's room, because he had never thought this would be an option for them. Or like, even a bit of fooling around or drunken kissing. He thought Bressie like _that_ was 100% off limits.

A knot of excitement mixed up with anxiety and - greed - forms in his stomach during the entirety of The Blizzard's performance, and when Niall joins Deo for his smoke-breaks, unable to watch Bressie smashing it on the stage without imagining what else could happen if they both let it.

He drinks slowly, rather holding the plastic cup with beer than actually drinking it, trying to keep up what Willie is saying next to him, but his mind keeps wandering off to Bressie, sweaty and _amazing_ on the stage. He never allowed himself to look like this. He still blushes when he remembers how desperately he hid his attraction to Bressie five years ago. How mortified he had been at the idea of Bressie somehow finding out.

He's pretty far away from the stage now, the crowd big enough to fill the whole room. It's hard to know what's on Bressie's mind because Niall can't even see his face properly. What the kiss had meant to him. If he's as perplexed and strung out as Niall is now.

By the time The Blizzards leave the stage, he's absolutely ready to be sick, stomach in knots. In his hand there's his phone with an unanswered message he sent to Bressie half way through the gig - _Can I come up after ?_

He's listening to Willie´s nattering about the pub they are going to, when the phone vibrates. _Yes please x_

“I´ll catch up with you later,” he mutters distractedly, leaving the group of his friends behind,  already on his way to the back and then up the stairs to the rooms.

It's proper dark now, the late autumn weather merciless, and the corridor leading to Bressie's room is badly lit by old yellowish lights above Niall's head. All and all, there are only few rooms above the venue, mostly used by bands who perform here. Niall still thinks it's bollix that Bressie decided to sleep here, when most of the band´s staying with their London family and friends. Just proves how stubborn Bressie is, Niall shakes his head at it as he reaches the right door.

He doesn't even hesitate, there's no time for cowardice. Mostly, he's anxious from what this all means, still confused about Bressie's behaviour. Not the kiss. The kiss was pretty straightforward.

 

***

 

Bressie's already looking apologetic when Niall enters, freezing mid-step, and Niall knows he must have been pacing the room like mad. His eyes are wide and startled - and gentle, like always. Niall instantly feels bad for making him feel distressed for whatever reason. Niall's starting to sweat under his jacket, can feel the sickness from nerves in his stomach. And it's not right because Bressie's his mate, and they shouldn't be like this.

Niall notices that Bressie's changed his top, probably managed to shower as well, and he can't peel his eyes away from where the t-shirt stretches across Bressie's chest, the sleeves short enough to show off the bulging biceps. Niall's trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he might be able to touch all of that.  

Bressie doesn't give him a chance to as much as breathe out though.

“Niall, look, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I -”

“I don't want you to apologise,” Niall interrupts him straight away. “I'm just confused, I reckon.” He shrugs, expression sincere to show Bressie that he doesn't mean any harm.

Bressie sighs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, obviously trying to find the right words. There's no rush, Niall knows, but at the same time, his chest feels too tight with anticipation.

There's a small table with two cheers pushed against the wall right next to him, so he walks over there to lean against the flimsy table, to have something to do. The silence keeps stretching, and Bressie doesn't look any less flustered and absolutely terrified.

“How long?” Niall asks from one end of the room, where he's standing. It's the first thing that comes to his mind.

Bressie lifts his head up to look at Niall. “Huh?”

“How long had you wanted to kiss me?” Niall's starting to sweat properly under his coat.

Bressie flushes, Niall's sure of it, even with the bad light in the room -- he immediately looks down, averting his gaze, dodging Niall's searching one.

“I´ve been meaning to tell you forever. Watching you grow up, as an artist and as a person - I couldn't be more proud of ya. I always thought it was just that.”

And Niall is flattered, of course he is, but he's also utterly batshit confused.

Bressie carries on, shoulders hunched like he's about to deliver some horrific news, like the words he's saying are physically paining him. “Then you were not sixteen anymore. And - and the band was over, and you were free to catch up on normal stuff. I didn't want to come to you and mess with your head, chief. That wouldn't be right.” He shakes his head. “You came back from travelling and happier than ever and, shit, more gorgeous than ever.”

The sudden confession takes Niall's breath away, and he watches Bressie's blush spread high on his cheeks and down his neck. Niall feels himself tense, and he's pretty sure he's gaping.

“And you started with your music, and it wouldn't be fair to distract you now, would it,” Bressie briefs him, almost matter-of-factly now, trying to hide his self-consciousness - and failing, because Niall still knows him, he does, even when they haven't been spending huge amounts of time together lately. “But I couldn't stop thinking about it, uhm - about you. So when I stayed over at yours the last time, I was fecking ready to get it all out finally. But I didn't, did I? You can call me a coward, because I sure am. I said nothin´.” Bressie rubs at his arms mindlessly, out of nervousness. Niall's eyes track the movement, before tearing away.

“What is it that you wanted to tell me?” he asks very slowly.

“That I've been falling in love with you.”

Niall sucks in a quick, surprised breath. Ok, he thinks. Bressie looks torn, eyes desperate, like he wants to elaborate. Niall's heard enough of shite though, he makes a step forward, and even with the height difference, he manages quite easily to stretch up and kiss Bressie.

At first, it's just a dry peck, a press of mouth against a mouth. That is before Niall hears Bressie groan, a deep rumble inside of his chest, and the man tilts his head slightly so their lips align and slide together perfectly. Tired of waiting and stretching the whole thing out, Niall parts his lips to give Bressie some sort of a sign, which Bressie responds to immediately, crowding closer to Niall, his large hands going to cup his face, probably, only he knocks off Niall's hat in the process.

They both look down on the carpet where it lands, laughing quietly. This could be a perfect excuse, easily, Niall reckons. He's not backing off though. The excitement and _need_ to touch Bressie, to get closer to him - as close as physically possible - is not letting him to give up on his intention.

When he peers up to meet Bressie's eyes - he could never change his mind now, seeing his friend in front of him, all self-conscious and hesitant and abashed. Jesus. A look that Niall´d never seen on him but can't get enough of, aware of how much he wants to put that wide smile of his on Bressie's face again.

“Come here,” Niall murmurs, beckoning Bressie until he's close enough to kiss again. Niall reckons that the cap had been in the way.

Bressie is freshly showered, and when Niall slides a hand to the nape of his neck, he finds that the hair there is still damp too. He smells lovely, bit citrusy and spicy - fresh. For some reason it makes Niall's chest tight. That Bressie's here with him, squeaky clean and in his comfortable clothes, while Niall is still wearing his winter coat. He's sweating already so he starts shrugging off the jacket as carefully as he can so he doesn't have to pull away from Bressie's amazing mouth.

But Bressie huffs out a quiet laugh against his lips, and a second later Niall feels his hands on his arms, palms burning through the layers of fabric, helping to remove the jacket.

Once it's on the floor, alongside the long forgotten cap, Niall surges forward boldly to mouth at the long, exposed column of Bressie's throat, arms coming up to find a purchase at Bressie's shoulders. He doesn't need to stand on his tiptoes, because Bressie immediately slumps down, exhaling a long breath, bringing one of his palms up to gently cup the side of Niall’s neck.

Niall's breath positively hitches, but it’s muffled where his mouth works against the skin of Bressie's throat. He presses open mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach, licking the pulse point, nibbling at the Adam´s apple. And he can feel Bressie's thick stubble, prickly against his lips, scraping the delicate skin around his mouth and on his chin where he's nearly freshly shaved himself.

Too soon, Niall is drunk from the taste of Bressie, lips sore and tingling from the stubble, aroused from Bressie's quiet moans and grunts - from how still Bressie's been holding for him, allowing Niall to get his fix. He's breathing heavily, flush warming his cheeks, when he peers up at Bressie.

They exchange a long, meaningful look, where Niall decides that he definitely wants to spend more time - all of the time - doing this and more, and that he also wants to suck bruises at the base of Bressie's throat, and everywhere where Bressie lets him.

“Sorry,” Bressie says sheepishly and Niall is confused for a moment, before Bressie's reaching out, touching a thumb to Niall's abused lips, and he hisses at how raw they feel.

“It's ok,” he smiles at Bressie, taking his hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.

“I´ll shave next time.”

Niall shakes his head. “Don´t,” he says, rubbing his swollen lips together. “I like it.”

Bressie's eyes flick to Niall's mouth again, as he's carefully sitting down on the bed behind him, “Wanna come here?” he asks tentatively, eyelids fluttering a little, and who´s Niall to say no?

 

***

 

They kiss for a long long time, lying on their sides, breathless and turned on. Niall's flies are open and Bressie's palming his erect dick through his underwear -- has been since Niall had took Bressie’s hand and put it over his crotch, because he couldn't stand anymore of this hesitant, coy behaviour that Bressie had been showing.

Still, Bressie's not doing much, just kind of holds his hand there, and it's not nearly enough but still feels bloody heavenly. His ears burn red at how intimate he's getting with someone he's known for so long.

They are both moaning, which is riling Niall up like nothing else, but they both know that today they won't do more. Bressie's got an early flight to attend a family event back in Ireland, and Niall will have to go join his cousins at the pub soon. He doesn't want to, but they are being sensible adults here. Or, at least, he thinks that's what they are.

“Did you mean what you said?” Niall asks, when they are able to tear away from each other mouths for longer than three seconds, and it's obvious that Niall means the “love” bit.

Bressie nods quietly. “Yeah,” he rasps out to confirm it aloud, perhaps to show that he doesn't regret it. That he's not scared, or ashamed of feeling that way.

Niall smiles wide, face hiding into his shoulder. “What took you so long?” he asks, peering at Bressie's face that is right next to his on the pillow.

Bressie watches him, then runs his palm over his face. “You were busy, chief. Living your life. The most exciting life anyone could ask for. I didn't want to mess with your head on top of everything,” he explains, face almost serious.

Niall wants to joke, say something like, _so now I look like I'm less busy?_ But he doesn't want to tease Bressie when he's being all honest and genuine. Niall can only imagine how hard it must have been for him, having all these feelings and keeping them in, hiding them from Niall and everyone else, too. Something very similar to what Niall used to feel when he first met Bressie.

“Well, I need someone sensible next to me, yea? To keep me away from troubles and from turning into a real snob,” Niall settles on, laughing, but he hopes that Bressie gets the message.

Bressie is all still next to him, clutching Niall's hand in his like a vice. “Are you being serious?” he asks in a small voice. The look on his face is emotional - gentle but fearful, hopeful. Niall's heart swells something fierce for him.

“Yes,” he squeezes Bressie's fingers in return, reaches to run his fingers along Bressie's temple and down the shell of his ear in what he hopes is a reassuring, soothing gesture. “What you said before -” he swallows with a click, his throat is dry suddenly with what he's about to say, “- I feel the same.”

It's funny to see how Bressie blinks a few times in a row, in a shock or not believing Niall's words, and then his face lights up with this brilliant smile that's only for Niall.

“Good,” Bressie mumbles, pulling Niall closer and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Good.”

 


End file.
